Goblin King: My Innate Skill Is OP-Chapter 297: Rivals

Zarah stepped forward and lowered herself to one knee before setting what she carried gently on the ground in front of me. Up close, there was no mistaking it anymore.

They were exactly what I thought they were.

Heads.

The severed heads of the elite Varukan, their expressions frozen in the last moments of fear and defiance, the cuts clean and precise enough to speak volumes about how quickly their ends had come.

"These are the heads of the elite Varukan we killed, Chief," Zarah said evenly, her tone steady and professional. "We made sure to track down every single fleeing Varukan and put an end to them, just as you commanded."

I stared at them for a moment longer than necessary, my thoughts scrambling to catch up with the situation.

"Wow..." I finally said the word, slipping out more awkwardly than I would’ve liked. "Good job."

It wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I gave the order.

I hadn’t asked for heads or proof in that particular form, but the intent was clear enough, and the result spoke for itself.

"All of you," I added after a brief pause, making sure none of them missed it.

"Thank you, Chief," they replied in unison, their voices overlapping as they lowered their heads in reverence. The tension they’d been carrying finally eased, replaced by wide grins and a quiet pride in a job well done.

Thok and Zonk in particular looked almost too pleased with themselves, their expressions bright enough to stand out even in the aftermath of the fight.

Zarah noticed.

She shot them a flat look, one brow lifting slightly as her gaze flicked between the two. "Why are you smiling so much?" she asked coolly. "You barely did anything."

Thok and Zonk’s expressions collapsed almost instantly, the smugness draining from their faces as they lowered their heads in quiet guilt. From the way they shifted their weight and avoided her gaze, it was clear she wasn’t wrong. Compared to the others, they really hadn’t done much.

"They would’ve gotten one or two," Dribb said suddenly, breaking the brief silence, his voice rough as he spoke up in their defense, "if you hadn’t hogged all the prey."

The words landed heavier than they should have, and I caught it immediately. There was a faint edge beneath his tone, something sharp and irritated that didn’t quite match the casual way he phrased it.

Zarah’s eyes slid to him at once.

"They would have escaped if I hadn’t," she replied coolly, her gaze hardening as it locked onto his. There was no apology in her voice, only certainty. "My priority was eliminating the threat, not taking turns."

Dribb’s jaw tightened.

"What about my case then?" he shot back, the irritation he’d been holding onto finally slipping through.

Alright. So this wasn’t really about Thok and Zonk anymore.

I stayed silent, letting it play out, already sensing where this was going.

"I had torn off his limbs," Dribb continued, his voice rising just enough to betray his frustration, "and I only needed one more swing to finish him off. One. But you shot his head and stole my prey."

The room felt tighter after that, the unspoken tension settling in the air between them.

Okay. I’d be mad too. What the hell, Zarah?

Zarah didn’t look away.

She didn’t look apologetic either.

She simply shrugged, completely unbothered, like this was hardly worth acknowledging.

"I saw an injured enemy and finished him," she said flatly. "What’s the problem?"

"You stole my kill," Dribb snapped, his voice rising as the frustration he’d been holding back finally spilled over. "That was my prey. My skill. I earned it."

"Next time," Zarah replied without missing a beat, rolling her eyes, "kill it faster."

"Why you—"

"What?" Zarah cut in, meeting him head-on, her gaze cold and unflinching. "What do you want to do then?" she challenged, her voice steady.

"You want to go? I’ll take you anytime. Any day."

Zarah turned slightly and gestured toward the door with her chin, a clear invitation.

"You want to go?" she continued. "I’ll take you anytime. Any day."

The words landed hard.

"I’ll take you right now if you want."

The room froze.

No one spoke. Even Thok and Zonk had gone completely still, eyes flicking between the two of them, suddenly aware that this wasn’t banter or post-battle tension anymore. This was pride, raw and exposed, rubbing against something sharp.

"I’m ready," Dribb said, his voice low and steady, and as the words left his mouth, a subtle surge of heat rolled off his body.

The flames didn’t burst outward or rage uncontrollably. Instead, they licked over his skin with practiced restraint, incinerating the dried blood that clung to him in seconds and leaving him standing there completely spotless, the faint shimmer of heat distorting the air around his frame.

That’s right.

Dribb wielded [Hellbrand], a flame-based ability that stood in direct opposition to Zarah’s ice.

Fire and frost.

In a way, they weren’t just different; they were natural counters to each other, each other’s weaknesses.

This wasn’t good.

Both of them were strong, both driven, and both carried an almost stubborn need to prove themselves through action rather than words.

Put together, that kind of temperament didn’t fade quietly. It escalated. And with abilities that clashed so cleanly, it wasn’t hard to imagine how quickly a spar could turn into something much worse.

Before either of them could take another step, Narg’s voice cut through the tension

"Enough," he said sharply, stepping forward just enough to make his presence felt. "Both of you. Are you seriously about to fight over something this small?"

"It’s not small to me," Dribb muttered, his jaw clenched, the lingering heat around him pulsing faintly with his irritation.

"That may be true," Narg replied without raising his voice, "but quit acting like younglings in front of the Chief. You’re making a fool out of yourselves."

Both Dribb and Zarah stiffened almost imperceptibly as the reminder set in, their awareness snapping back to the room, to the presence they had nearly forgotten in the heat of the moment.

They both lowered their heads and apologized quickly, the challenge between them postponed, if not entirely extinguished.

"I’m sorry, Chief," Zarah said first, a rare trace of embarrassment slipping into her voice as she dipped her head.

"Sorry too, Chief," Dribb added right after, though the apology rang a little rougher.

Even as he spoke, his eyes never fully left Zarah, the glare still there, sharp and unyielding.

She met it without flinching, her own gaze just as intense, the earlier challenge lingering between them like an unresolved spark.

I sighed inwardly.

A fight between the two of them wasn’t...